Nightmare Robed in White
by Channel D
Summary: Tim and Abby are caught in white-out snow conditions, and become lost in the Navy Yard on a bitterly cold day. Can the team find them in time? Drama in three chapters. Mild McAbby.
1. Oh, the weather outside is frightful

**Nightmare Robed in White**

**by channelD**

_written_ for: the NFA Snow Challenge

_rating_: K plus

_genre_: drama

_characters_: Tim, Abby, & the rest

_pairing_: a teensy bit of McAbby, though more friendship

_setting_: January

_author's note_: I have used a creative bit that I have used in other stories: that Tim grew up in the snowy northern states, and that his parents are meteorologists.

- - - - -

_disclaimer_: I own nothing of NCIS.

- - - - -

**Chapter 1: "Oh, the weather outside is frightful…"**

"You know what the best, the _very_ best thing about hot food is?" said Abby, about to take a bite of her last pizza slice. "It fools your body into thinking that everything's fine; that the world's a warm and lovely place; that bluebirds are singing…until you have to step back out into the cold."

Tim laughed, and followed her gaze out the pizza shop window. There, light snow was being blown fiercely by the angry January winds. It was a cold day in Washington, colder than normal. This hadn't stopped the two of them from wanting to try out this new hole-in-the-wall restaurant on 8th Street at lunch. The pizza wasn't top-notch, but it was hot and filling, and the staff was nice. Other pastas were promised for the menu soon, and Tim and Abby had already decided to try it again in a month.

"We should head back," said Tim, looking at his watch. "Gibbs is being a stickler about tardiness lately."

"Well, foo on him," said Abby, but she obligingly pulled on her parka as Tim likewise donned his winter coat. "Thanks! We'll be back!" she called to the staff as she and Tim headed out the door.

The cold slapped at their faces as they hurried down 8th Street. "I _love_ snow!" Abby gushed. "It's so pretty!"

"But it's not black," Tim teased. "Black _is_ your color, after all."

"Doesn't matter. There's nothing like it in nature. Look!" She ground to a halt, grabbing his arm, and so he stopped too. "Look!" She pointed to his sleeve, where flakes were coming in for a landing and resting before the warm sleeve melted them. "_Look_ at the patterns!" Always prepared, she drew a small magnifying glass out of a pocket, and examined the flakes up close. Typically, most of the "flakes" were actually multiple flakes that had become stuck together somewhere in their journey, but elements of the lacey six-sided branches and wings were still evident, and still individualistic.

"Abby, we've got to get back," Tim said, but he was smiling.

"Oh, McGee; stop and smell the snowflakes for once!" She thrust the magnifying glass into his hand. "What do you see??"

"Hmmm…I see a message…'If you're late it will come out of your leave time'…"

"Literate snowflakes. Who'd have thought?" Abby grumped, and repocketed the magnifier. "All right, let's go…"

They trotted on, moving faster. It was several long, cold blocks down 8th Street. At last they came to M Street, and jogged in place while waiting for the light to change on this busy street. When it did change, the snow picked up in intensity. Now flakes the size of half-dollar coins raced around them, cutting the visibility drastically.

"Cool!" was Abby's comment. "I _love_ this!"

"I'd love it a lot more if I were looking out at it from someplace warm," Tim said.

"You have no romance in your soul, McGee," Abby pouted.

"I have enough. I've just seen snow like this all my life. You, being from New Orleans, haven't."

"So you're saying you're jaded, and I'm not."

"I'm saying I'm cold, I'm about to be late, I saw this same thing on Christmas Day when I was at my parents', and yes, I'm glad you still think it's beautiful. Come on; the light's changed."

They decided to enter the Navy Yard at the Latrobe Gate at the Marine compound rather than the Isaac Hull gate further down M Street, where NCIS agents usually entered. It would save them a little distance, and the Marines would let them in with their NCIS IDs. Again the snow thickened. What had earlier been a little gritty slop on the ground was now a measurable few inches, and the heavens seemed to be intent on burying them. "Wow!" Abby called over the wind. "I'm glad we're not out driving in this!"

"Me, too," said Tim, hoping his team didn't have to go out in the field today. Better than Abby, he understood the dangers of driving through wind-swept snow. Slick roads plus poor visibility was a formula for an accident. "Let's hustle!"

Out the back of the Marines compound they ran, into Leutze Park…and into a nightmare.

"Whoa!" Abby said, grinding to a halt. It was as if she'd gone blind. The snow was now so thick that she couldn't see anything but snow: no trees, no path, no road, no buildings. It was a white, white world, in which no other color existed. She held out her hand, but couldn't see it, either; her black sleeve dissolved around the spot where her elbow was. "Tim?" she called, fearfully.

"I'm right here," his voice came from nearby. She felt a fumbling on her side and her sleeve before a gloved hand grabbed hers. "Let's stay together," he said. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," she said stoutly, and then added, a trace meekly, "Don't let go, okay?"

"Okay."

"Can we find our way to NCIS?"

"Of course we can. We've been this route hundreds of times."

"You lead then. Please."

He gave her hand a squeeze. "We'll be there in minutes. The worst that will happen is that I'll have to take 15 minutes of leave…or stay and work 15 minutes extra tonight."

They started off, moving cautiously but not too slowly. Step…step…step… "Ow!" Tim cried out as he banged into something hard. Pain wafted off his leg, and he fell to the ground, dragging Abby down with him.

"Tim! Are you all right? What happened?!" Groping blindly, she pawed at him, unable to see him but wanting to give comfort.

"I …hit something," he gasped. "One of the…damn bronze cannons in the park, I guess." There were a dozen or more historic cannons in the park, as they knew.

"Then we've gone off the path," Abby said, slowly.

"Not necessarily far," he said, getting to his feet and taking her hand again. "Come on. We'll be back in with the orange walls before you know it!"

They started moving again. Tim's leg felt like it was on fire, but he kept that thought to himself. He would probably have a large bruise; that was nothing to complain about.

"You're sure we're going the right way?" Abby asked as the snow slid beneath her boots. "I can't tell if we're on grass or path."

"You don't have faith in me?" Tim said, joking. He blinked and bit back a sigh when she didn't answer right away. _She must really be scared._

"What do your parents say about white-outs?" she asked. "That's what they call this, right? A white-out?"

"Yep. I don't remember them staying much about white-outs," Tim said. "My mother's specialty is tornadoes, you know. And my dad deals in applied meteorology."

"They never said anything??"

"Just—" He stopped himself before saying _'Don't go out in one.'_ Abby didn't need to hear that now. "Just 'wait a little bit, and it'll soon be over.'" he improvised. It was a lie, and he hated saying it.

"Oh," she said, a little more cheerfully. "So maybe we should stay where we are until it passes. It should be over in a few minutes, right?"

"I don't think we should wait," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask for an elaboration. Dreaded thoughts of wandering lost in blizzards, and freezing to death: the bogeymen of his childhood, filled his mind. He was from the Plains states, where settlers in the 19th and early 20th centuries had indeed often met death in blizzards when caught outside. Come spring, there wouldn't even usually be a body to be found: Nature's creatures would have made short work of the corpse. Old barns in his area still sometimes had ropes leading to the house; a lifeline when one had to go out in a storm to tend to the animals.

"But, Tim…"

"Abby, I'm more afraid of Gibbs than I am of a little snow!" He forced a smile into his voice.

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Let's head to the right here," Tim said at one point. "We know we have to turn west."

"West. You got it," she said. "Then it's only about a block until we hit Sicard Street, and then straight on to NCIS." She sounded confident, but she gripped his hand tightly.

They trod on, and the white-out showed no signs of letting up. Since it wasn't even 1 o'clock, the day was bright…so bright that the whiteness was almost hard on the eyes.

Abby teetered at one point, when her boot slid on a slippery patch. Tim grabbed her, finding her waist, and she didn't fall. She had a dizzying sensation, though: the light was so even that she wasn't sure which way was up. "Tim," she whimpered. "I'm afraid."

"I know. It's going to be okay."

"We don't have white-outs in New Orleans."

"I know."

"Can't we just stay where we are until it passes?"

"No. We have to keep moving."

"But why? I'll talk to Gibbs for you, if that's what's on your mind. So you stay later tonight. So what. I'll come up with a reason for you to work with me in my lab. That'll be fun!"

He laughed, shortly. "If you're waggling your eyebrows at me, don't bother. You know I love working with you. Except when you threaten me. But I think we should keep moving. It's too cold to linger here."

"I suppose…" she said, and started forward, loosening her grip of his hand.

And then her grip was gone altogether.

"Abby??" Tim called, waving his hand to try to find her hand, her body. He couldn't see her at all; she was swallowed up in the deadly white veil.

Then there was a loud splash.

"_Abby!!!"_


	2. It doesn't show signs of stopping

**Chapter 2: **_**"It doesn't show signs of stopping…**_**"**

- - - - -

"Abby!!! _Answer me!!!"_

A splash came, and Tim strained to identify it. Something rising from the water and falling back, he guessed. A second splash. "Tim!!! _Help me!!!"_

"Don't panic!!" he called. "I'll get you!" That was for her benefit, of course; inside he quaked to think what he could do.

_Fact_: She had evidently fallen in the river.

_Fact_: Where along the river they were, he didn't know.

_Fact_: It had never occurred to him to wonder what the water's depth was along the shoreline.

Deep enough to handle the USS _Barry_.

Deep enough to drown in.

He cursed the weather which made them blind. _Where is she? Where's the water? It can't be far…_

Knowing it wouldn't help for both of them to fall in, Tim dropped to his hands and knees. "Abby! Don't try to swim! Just tread water." _You might head away from shore if you try to swim._

"O-okay, Tim. But hurry, p-please!!"

Tim cautiously felt his way along the pavement, ignoring the cold that seeped through his lined gloves. Then the pavement ended—it must be the waterline. _See, eyes, blast it! See!!!_

And then, to his enormous relief, he could see…just a little. The white-out was lifting ever-so-slightly. He could see his hands, and…there! A dark form a few feet away. Abby's dark coat! But he couldn't see her face, and so didn't know if she was facing the shore or not. "Abby! Look hard. Can you see me?"

_Splash, splash_ as she waved her hands while treading water. "N-no…"

_My coat is light grey. It probably doesn't show up. Or she may not be facing the shore. If only I could see a little more clearly!_ "I see you," he said. "Stay calm. Keep treading water. I'll get you out."

"I—I'm s-s-s-o c-cold, Tim."

"I'll have you out in a jiffy." Though he knew that it would be better to pull her to shore, if she couldn't see the shore, she wouldn't see any rescue device, like a branch or rope, of which he had neither anyway. He'd have to go into the water.

Standing up, he shed his coat and shoes, both of which would be weights in the water. That Abby still had her head above water while wearing a long, heavy wool coat was a testimony to her physical fitness. Tim couldn't quite make out where the water line was, so he just lowered himself over the edge into the water, rather than swamp her by jumping in.

Oh, the water was cold! Realistically he knew that it was warmer than the air was, but that wasn't saying a lot. _Get in and get out as quickly as possible…_ "Got you!" he said, an instant before he grabbed her coat. Sure enough, she was facing the wrong way. "Don't struggle. Let me pull you to the shore."

"Tim…oh, Tim…"

"It's okay. It's okay." She really had been only a few feet from the shore, but the water was clearly deep. He grabbed the collar of her coat and towed her to shore. "Hold onto the side here," he directed. Seeing her do so, he then pulled himself out of the water, and then quickly pulled her out.

They were safe…for the moment. Both were soaking wet, the wind was bitter, and they still couldn't see more than a few feet away. They didn't know where they were, and hypothermia was a grave risk.

He found his coat and shoes. Slipping on his shoes, he pulled off her sopping wool coat and wrapped his gray parka around her. "Tim, no," she protested. "That's _your_ coat!"

"It's dry and will keep you warm," he said firmly. "You're just wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt , and I have on a turtleneck and a sports coat."

"Which are now wet!"

"I'll be fine." _A plan. We need a plan. We need to get inside immediately!_ He pulled out his cell phone and cursed on finding it unresponsive after the dunking in the water. "Abby, where's your phone?"

"M-my coat pocket. T-there's a lined, inner pocket. W-waterproof."

"Good!" He found the pocket and the thankfully dry phone.

"_What's up, Abbs?"_

"Boss, this is McGee. Abby and I are in trouble. We're lost somewhere in the Yard. Abby fell in the river, and I got her out but she needs to get inside immediately."

"_You have no idea where you are?" _Gibbs thought he heard Abby say something, but couldn't catch the words.

"We can't see a thing! Somewhere down by the river; that's all I know."

"_Okay, McGee. Leave the phone on. We'll find you."_

- - - - -

Gibbs took a moment to look out the window at the swirling white that hid even the trees that grew close to the NCIS building. _Think, think…_

There was no time. Somehow, rescue agencies dealt with this. Somehow, they must find people lost in blizzards. Knowledge of how they did it must be contained somewhere…but finding it online, or finding the right people on the phone, would take time. They had no time. Gibbs knew they'd have to improvise—and he could only pray that he'd make the right choice.

After briefing Ziva and Tony on the situation, he sent them off running to get rope; heavy rope, as much of it as they could find. Vance was at the Pentagon, and Gibbs in charge, so he took advantage of this. He sprinted for Vance's office and turned on the public address system. "All agents, all agents! Put on your coats, hats and gloves and report to the front entrance immediately. Repeat, put on your coats, hats, and gloves and report to the front entrance immediately. We have a rescue operation. Anyone else, any non-agents who want to help, come along, but come quickly and dress accordingly." Then he phoned Ducky to get him and Jimmy Palmer on board.

Ziva ran in with a coil of 100 feet of rope. "Tony is bringing more coils," she said, and launched herself at her computer. "Has anyone tried triangulating Abby's cell phone?"

"Try it," said Gibbs. "I don't have a lot of hope for it, though. At best it'll pinpoint them within 50 feet. At worst it'll be blocks off. We won't be able to see them from a distance, anyway. Mostly, we'll have to hope that we stumble across them."

- - - - -

"Tim—aren't you—aren't you g-getting cold?" Abby asked. She could see him dimly now; snow clinging to his hair, his sports coat, his pants, and only melting slowly. Ice had already formed in his hair.

"N-no," he said, trying to hide his shivering. "J-just think w-warm thoughts. Gibbs will b-be here soon."

"G-Gibbs will save us," Abby said, firmly.

"I-I h-h-hate being r-rescued, b-but yeah." Tim tried to laugh, but the laughter didn't come. He wouldn't admit it to Abby, but he was scared. _How long can we last out here like this? Half an hour? _

"Sh-shouldn't we move or s-something? T-to keep w-w-warm?"

"N-no. If w-we d-d-don't stay p-put, it'll t-take long-ger for them t-t-to f-find us."

"I c-can't hold your c-coat closed. T-take it b-back. It doesn't f-fit me," Abby mumbled, trying to pull it off, fighting Tim's efforts to keep it on her.

"No, Abby; l-leave it on. You n-need it," Tim said, worrying at the confusion he heard in her voice. He remembered that as being a symptom of hypothermia—along with the strange desire to take _off_ layers of clothes.

"I don't care," she said thickly.

"H-help is c-coming, Abby. You've g-got to believe that."

"T-too many layers. C-c'mon Tim; you t-take off a l-layer, too."

"No, Abby. Y-you're getting c-cold and c-confused. We have to k-keep all l-layers on. _Gibbs_ would w-want us to."

"G-Gibbs…" She stopped struggling and lay on the ground on her back, letting the snow drift down and hit her face. "S' pretty…" she said.

_How long would it take Gibbs to come?! Assuming Gibbs could somehow find them, when they couldn't find NCIS… _Tim suddenly noticed her eyes were shut. He thought about saying to her that she mustn't fall asleep, but he realized he couldn't remember why falling asleep was a bad thing. Surely it would make the time go faster. And he did feel sleepy. _Forget the cold, forget the icicles on your nose, just close your eyes for a little while. Just a little while…_

- - - - -

It was a long 15 minutes before everyone was in place in the hallway at the NCIS front entrance. Gibbs knew there were 14 special agents on duty now (13, minus Tim); a quick glance at the crowd showed that all were there. There were about 40 other people in the group as well: Intel analysts, the mail clerk, a couple security guards who'd been about to go off shift, people from a number of divisions. While two ex-Navy men tied the six lengths of rope together, Gibbs ticked off positions and made assignments. "When we go out there, we'll be heading for the river, working slowly to the east. It's more likely that they're on the eastern edge of the Yard than closer here, since the fences near the _Barry_ should have kept Abby from falling in. Try to space yourselves fairly evenly along the rope. _Do not let go of the rope unless I say you can._ We don't want to have to search for you, too. You find Abby and McGee—yell, but don't let go of the rope. Got that? Okay, let's go; they're running out of time."

He nodded as Jimmy and Ducky came up, carrying equipment and stretchers. "Timothy may need to be carried out as well," Ducky observed. "I do hope I'm wrong, though."

Gibbs stationed the three college interns just outside the entrance, after one of the ex-Navy men securely tied one end of the rope to a lamppost. The young people would be in the best shape to be essentially standing still with the rope (obviously, they could bounce up and down to stay warm). The next in line with the rope were cautioned not to stay in the street with it, for there was a chance that a vehicle would come by. The rope was limp in the street, and only picked up again by the next person in line across the street in Willard Park.

The people quickly took up positions as the rope was played out. Gibbs made them hustle, in fact. He was desperately worried about Abby. _Had she been wearing that long wool coat? That would just trap water._

He put Ziva at the very front of the line, even in front of himself. "You're shorter than I am," he said, seeing her surprise at her assignment. "That puts you closer to the ground. They're probably down, so you might be able to spot them before I do." He whistled shrilly, and the long rope line moved out.

Ziva let her instincts lead her. Head south toward the _Barry_—she kept an eye on the compass Gibbs had loaned her—and veer off to the east just before getting to the fences at the _Barry's_ pier. _"Abby!"_ people called. _"McGee!"_ Ziva didn't join in the calls, she was instead looking and listening. _Odd that I, growing up in nearly-snowless Israel, would be leading a group through the snow…_

She stopped suddenly, thinking she'd heard something. Yes, a sound like sobbing. "Abby?" she asked softly, then louder, "Abby! Answer me!" There was no answer and she started to think she'd imagined it all.

"_Abby!!"_ Gibbs bellowed. He hadn't heard what Ziva had heard, but he believed in her. _"McGee! Answer me!!"_

"There!" cried Tony, who was just behind Gibbs on the rope. "To the right!"

"You let go of the rope, DiNozzo, and I'll throw you in the river," Gibbs snapped. Tony shrugged and waited while the rope line pulled toward the vague shape he saw a few feet away.

"Abby!" Gibbs cried, pulling the rope line in her direction. She was squatting, and wearing, curiously, Tim's grey coat. "Ducky!" he yelled. "Get up here!"

"He won't wake up! He won't wake up!" Abby was crying hoarsely. Tears froze in her eyelashes. "I try to wake him up, but he won't do it. I think he's dead. Wake up, Tim, please…"

The rescuers gazed in horror at Tim's still body, which was curled into a fetal position. Ice hung on all his clothes, and his exposed skin was blue and white.

"Wake up, Tim; _please_…"


	3. And my dear, we're still goodbye'ing

**Chapter 3: "And my dear, we're still goodbye'ing…"**

**- - - - -**

Ducky ran to the front of the line, slapping outstretched hands of people on the rope as he passed them. That wasn't anything planned; it was a spontaneous act and a means of not veering off course. Jimmy, right behind him, followed suit.

"Oh, dear," Ducky said on seeing Tim, causing even more worry in the people nearby.

"I can't find a pulse, Duck," Gibbs said, his eyes grey and watery.

Ducky didn't reply, but checked for himself. He didn't find one, either. Then, after a moment's thought, he tugged on the closer of Tim's arms, and pulled it away from his body. Then he let it go. It returned to its former position at his chest.

At this Ducky smiled. "He's alive. That's a reflex action when the body becomes severely hypothermic. If he were dead, the arm would not retract. Mister Palmer! The body wrap."

"Right here, Doctor." Jimmy handed over one of the hyperthermia wraps he was carrying. Under Ducky's instructions, he pulled off Tim's sports coat.

"He's soaked clear through—he must have gone into the water, too," said Ducky. "Well, it's not advisable to remove all his wet clothing here. We'll have to make do with a thin layer of dampness for now. Ziva, pay attention to what I am doing, and help Jimmy tend to Abby.

"We have to keep the core body temperature from dropping any further. This is to protect the organs. The thermal wrap, ideally applied when a person is dry, reflects their own body heat back to them and gradually warms them—or keeps them stable until they can be brought to hospital."

Gibbs and Tony moved Tim onto the stretched-out wrap. "No, don't fold the arms in. Put them outside the wrap," Ducky directed, and glanced at his assistant, nodding in satisfaction that Jimmy was aware of this.

"But Ducky; the frostbite—he needs to warm his hands," Tony protested.

"His extremities will survive. They're not as important as the torso. Cold limbs, including hands, placed close to the body core could cause the heart to stop."

"If there's no pulse, Duck—"

"He has a pulse, Jethro. The heart rate has just slowed tremendously; down to about three beats per minute. The respiration has slowed as well. It's enough to keep him alive for now. But he can't continue like this for long." As he talked, Ducky worked, wrapping the material around Tim. He then gestured to Gibbs and Tony to put Tim on one of the stretchers. He then turned toward Abby.

"Stay awake, Abby," Ziva was saying. "Talk to me."

Abby's eyes were closed, and her voice had dropped to a murmur as Jimmy tucked the wrap around her.

"Well done, Mr. Palmer," said Ducky. "Let's get these two inside. Jethro—"

Gibbs clicked his phone shut, frowning at it. "Ambulances will be here when they can. The snow has reduced traffic to a crawl. It could be more than an hour until they get here."

"That's not good," Ducky said with a sharp intake of breath. "That's not good."

- - - - -

Tony and Gibbs would be bearing Tim's stretcher back to NCIS; Jimmy and Ducky would do the same with Abby's. "We must take care not to veer away from the rope," said Ducky. "It would be too easy to get lost, just as Timothy and Abigail did." It was true: with their hands full, they wouldn't be able to slap the hands of the rope bearers.

"I have an idea," said Ziva, at the lead of the rope. "Do not get ahead of me." When Tony and Gibbs were ready to start out, Ziva pulled the rope line with her, heading back to NCIS, keeping Tony (who was at the front of the stretcher) no more than an arm's length apart, on her left. She could see him that close. He nodded in understanding, and kept the people on the other part of the rope, on his left, no more than an arm's length apart as well. In that manner the head of the rope (Ziva) pulled the rope formation back to NCIS in a U-shape, herding the two sets of stretcher-bearers.

Within 15 minutes the stretchers were inside; in another five minutes the last of the NCIS employees were in, too. After a nod from Gibbs, Ziva raided the storeroom for the coffee percolators to make coffee and hot chocolate for everyone. Gibbs looked around for Ducky, but the ME was gone.

Gibbs found him in Autopsy. True to form, Ducky was doing what he felt necessary, without asking permission. He'd had Tony and Jimmy lay out Tim and Abby, still in their wraps, on two tables. It seemed…gruesome, but it was the best action.

"You're sure about the heart rate?" Gibbs asked. Tim and Abby were so _still._

"Most assuredly. They are alive. Abigail's breathing rate is 1 per 20 seconds; Timothy's is a little less. Nature built humans to be relatively hardy, you know; our forebears lived in caves. Their hearts now are in a state of hyperexciteability, though, and mucking with them could lead to fibrillation, and death."

"But you want to warm them."

"Yes, but very, very carefully! No extremes of heat, and warming of the core only. A shock to the system caused by warming of the limbs could cause a condition known as _afterdrop._"

"The heat packs, Doctor," said Jimmy, carrying a small load.

"Thank you, Jimmy. Jethro, if you and Jimmy could unwrap Timothy and get his clothes off, I'll heat these up."

"Can I be of help?" Ziva asked, coming in.

"Yes, my dear; you can help me with Abby," said Ducky, pulling her away. She was looking a little too interested in the men's undressing of Tim. "We're professionals, but these are our friends, and we should allow them some dignity."

"Dignity! Here?!" Tony hooted.

"DiNozzo, go get a cup of coffee," Gibbs ordered. "You look cold. Don't come back until you've had at least three cups." Tony took the hint and left.

Heat packs, once warmed, were placed at the sides of the neck, in the armpits, and at the groin. The arms were left dangling at the sides. Then once more, the victims were wrapped in the thermal wraps, arms out.

The next step was to slowly rewarm the extremities. Basins were brought out, and water carefully heated to 105 degrees F. The victims' hands were allowed to soak in there; the water being frequently replaced as the cold hands cooled it. "Good," pronounced Ducky when one of Abby's hands had regained its normal pinkish color. "Though it's fortunate that she's not conscious; it would be quite painful now."

"Will they make it, Duck?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"It is to be hoped," Ducky said. "Women stand a better chance than men do. They have more subcutaneous body fat."

"Do not tell Abby she has fat," Ziva laughed bleakly.

"All this, from leaving the Yard for lunch," Gibbs sighed. He then helped Ducky and Jimmy dry Abby's and Tim's hands and then wrap them in gauze. There were still frostbite patches on their ears and faces to deal with, but that would have to wait for the hospital.

- - - - -

"Do I have to get out there and drive an ambulance myself??" Ziva said in frustration. It had been over an hour since Gibbs called 911.

"Like that would get them there safely," Tony jibed. He was on his fourth cup of coffee, and had brought a tray of cups down for everyone.

"I'm surprised the Yard doesn't have its own ambulance," said Jimmy. "There are enough people working here to warrant one."

Gibbs and Ducky exchanged amazed looks. "There _is_ one," Gibbs said, snapping his fingers. "I'd forgotten about it. It's seldom used. It's at the Marine compound." He pulled out his phone and turned aside to make a call.

He turned back a moment later, sighing. "They don't have anyone to drive it, or a medical corpsman to go along with it."

"I said I would drive," Ziva insisted.

"Oh, no you don't," said Tony. _"I'll_ drive. You can navigate."

"And I'll play corpsman," said Ducky. "It's been awhile since I've done that. Good fun."

- - - - -

Shortly the Marine ambulance was loaded with the patients, and with Ducky, Gibbs, Tony and Ziva in cramped quarters, they set off. Mercifully, the snow dwindled to flurries, and the journey to the hospital took no time at all.

- - - - -

Hours later, Gibbs sat in Tim's hospital room, his chair drawn up close to the bed. "I still can't decide if you were commendably brave, or utterly foolish today, Tim."

Tim winced. The painkillers took the edge off the fire in his body, but he still hurt. "There was no choice, boss. I had to jump in after Abby."

"I'm not disagreeing with you there. I'd knock your block off if you didn't do that. No, I meant not being upfront with me when you called to say Abby had fallen in. You didn't say you were wet, too."

"What could you have done?"

Tim had him there. "Eh…," Gibbs said. "You did your best to keep her warm, and alive, at the near loss of your own life."

Embarrassed, Tim tried to joke. "Is there a medal in that for me?"

"I'll check the qualifications for the NCIS medals. But even if there isn't, you have my thanks…and respect. You're a true hero."

Tim tried to cover his face with his pillow, but this only made his facial frostbite burns hurt. "Ow. Go see Abby, and let me get some rest."

- - - - -

In her hospital room, Abby was saying, "Tell me again how it happened! The rope, the wrap...everything! Only this time, do it in a Bugs Bunny accent."

Tony looked ready to do so, but Ziva put her hand on his arm, laughing. "Tomorrow, maybe. You should get some rest now. Good bye, Abby."

Gibbs came in as Tony and Ziva were going out. "You look pretty good, considering," he said to Abby.

"It's that subcutaneous fat," she said, glowering.

"Ducky's term, not mine."

"Gibbs…so Tim really is a hero, isn't he? He saved me, both from the water and then out of it?"

"Looks that way." He gave her a quizzical look, and decided not to ask her about her smile. Giving her cheek a kiss, he said, "I'll come see you tomorrow."

When he had gone, she smiled again to herself. _My knight in the light grey coat of shining armor…_

- END -


End file.
